


Starry-Eyed

by Masternoj



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cosmonaut AU, Female Frisk, Fluff, Frisk really likes hugs, Genderfluid Chara, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Now with 100 Percent More Fight Scenes, Other, Plot, Semi-Corporeal Ghost Chara, Slow Burn, i am trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masternoj/pseuds/Masternoj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Charisk adventure through the Underground and beyond. Contains plot, fluff, feels, and a lot of things involving space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash Landing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ask-asterfrisk](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ask-asterfrisk).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Presenting a new fic for Chara’s birthday (as decreed by the Tumblr community), 9/9! (slightly late, sue me)
> 
> For those unfamiliar with my work: there will be a [♫] that links to music I have selected before most sections. If you wish, you can open those for music fitting the tone of that segment. This particular selection may seem a bit odd.
> 
> Enjoy the ride.

[[♫]](https://youtu.be/3iiNu9kPsUc)

The first thing you notice is the utter lack of stars.

The second is that you exist.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness (wait do you still _have_ eyes?), you find yourself looking up at a sheer rocky wall. It curves up and up to frankly ridiculous heights until a hole pierces the center of the dome, light searing through as though the rock simply ceased to exist where the rays demanded passage.

Then you realize that those little bumps all around the top of the dome are stalactites that could turn a yeti into a shish kebab. This cavern isn’t enormous. It’s goddamn **_galactic_**.

You smirk at your own little joke, before once again questioning how you have a body to do so with.

You look down. You’re lying in the far reaches of the cavern, body twisted like you were thrown there be a giant who particularly hated green.

Wait. Green? Green and yellow? You’re back in your own body? What h-

Images and sensations flash through your mind.

A furry white figure, kneeling beside a dying child. Red. A creature straight from a storybook. Red. A bed of golden flowers. **Red**. Screams, pain, so much pain, why? _**Red**_. All-consuming icy fury. Your/our/his hand crumbling away.

 _ **RED**_.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing you notice is the sudden absence of stars.

The second is that you’re not dead.

The pain hits you all at once, as if it pounced the instant it noticed you wake. You feel like a giant bruise - you probably match your favorite sweater now – but somehow, you don’t think anything is broken.

As your eyes flicker open, you’re practically blinded by the light from above. You wince and shut them tight again, struggling to clear the colors from your already poor vision.

_Was I out that long? It was night when I climbed the mountain… I could almost make out the stars._

Groping around, you find yourself on a bed of… flowers? Turning your head to the side and cracking one eye open, you can make out the intense golden color of the petals all around you.

You guess they must have broken your fall somehow- you thought that your life was over when you tripped and fell down the hole you never even saw.

You shudder, the pain dulling as a wave of cold sweeps through you. You almost **_died_**. You guess your parents were right, and the mountain was too dangerous for you to go up alone, with your awful vision, especially at night.

But you _had_ to. It was your only chance to really see the night sky. The dream that you _would_ make happen one day...

You gradually become aware of an awful moaning, keening sound. If someone took heaping handfuls of sadness and anger and… something else, and threw them into a cosmic whirlwind of confusion, you might get something that could make that sound.

With a little gasp of pain, you sit up and peer towards the sound. In the darkness at the edge of the… cave? It looks like a cave… and there’s something moving in the shadows.

You recoil at first, instinctively scared of anything moving in creepy cave shadows. You remember the old stories of monsters living in the mountain, evil beasts with black hearts and insatiable hunger.

Whatever it is, all it seems to be doing is shaking and making that horrible noise. It makes you want to comfort them, whoever or whatever is over there. No one should have to suffer enough to make that sound, not even a monster.

Through sheer force of will you manage to stand, although the pain nearly makes you black out. You stagger towards the dark shape, calling out.

“H-hello? Are you okay?”

No response. All right. You’ll just have to get closer.

As the distance narrows and the shape resolves, you see a… child? They look so small curled up like that… now that you’re closer, you can make out occasional whispered words mixed in with their cry. It sounds like a name. _Az... something._

All you can really see of them, even when you get right up next to them, is the striped green and yellow of their sweater.

You crouch down next to them and reach out a hand.

You make contact with their shoulder.

They freeze.

Their head snaps towards you, and you see brilliant ruby eyes.

Then the world goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chara could be a poet if they cared enough.
> 
> This fic is based on the Cosmonaut AU.
> 
> Cosmonaut Frisk belongs to [@ask-asterfrisk](http://ask-asterfrisk.tumblr.com/starshine) / [@rotoa](http://rotoa.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Cosmonaut Chara belongs to [@asterichara](http://asterichara.tumblr.com/Chara) / [@out-of-heals](http://out-of-heals.tumblr.com/).
> 
> The repeats of “Red” in the opening section DO NOT refer to the fangame character. There was some confusion with my beta.
> 
> The second-person writing style was inspired by snugglepup’s fic [Tend To These Flowers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7269997/chapters/16506868).
> 
> I don’t know how to write children. Bear with me on this one.
> 
> More chapters to come soon™.


	2. First Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A new chapter for the 1st anniversary of Undertale! May Toby watch over us all. (Especially my fellow Charisk trash.)
> 
> Undertale brought so many good things into so many people’s lives. This is my small way of giving back. Hopefully it’s up to snuff.

You can’t tell how much time has passed since you woke up from death.

You don’t think you want to know.

It could have been five minutes, or an eternity, but neither will bring him back.

\---------------------------

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=ppijmSkC1_U)

With no warning at all, you feel something touch your shoulder.

Old reflexes kick in. You spin your head around and tense up to defend yourself… but stop dead ( _hah_ ) when you see a small girl crouched next to you. A human girl. At least, you think they’re a girl. It’s hard to tell, especially in this light. There’s no way they’d be like you… probably a girl.

_She looks… concerned. And kinda dazed. Wow those eyes are really blue._

Before this series of irrelevant thoughts finishes passing through your head, and you start to wonder how she got here (wherever _here_ is), the girl collapses.

Fortunately, she was already close to the ground. Unfortunately, that means your instinctive reach to catch her came up short, and she dropped face-first into the dirt.

 _Wait… could I even have caught her? She saw me… she_ touched _me! I_ do _have my own body again! But…_

The despair threatens to overwhelm you again. Forcing it down, you try to keep the torment at bay by focusing on the girl. It doesn’t look like she was injured by the little faceplant she just did.

Cautiously, you stand and move over to her.

_Jeez, she’s tiny. Shouldn’t weigh much._

You crouch down and gently slide your arms under the unconscious child, picking her up as though she might break if you jostle her too much. Something about her makes you want to protect her… you scowl as you catch yourself thinking that. She’s a distraction, nothing more.

As you look around more, you spot the bed of golden flowers basking in the light flowing from the ceiling. You realize this is the cavern at the far end of the Ruins… this is where you fell, all those years ago. You had always avoided coming back here. If this slip of a girl fell too, she must be tougher than she looks. You barely survived… although there were fewer flowers back then.

You carry the girl back over to the cushion provided by the flowerbed and lay her down in an undamaged part. You can see the crushed foliage where she must have landed from over here. Since it doesn’t seem to be covered in blood, you assume she’ll live. She is still unconscious, though. That’s probably not good.

You don’t really know anything about medicine, or human physiology. You suppose she probably hit her head quite hard when she fell- hence the blackout. It certainly happened to you a good few times while you were down here…

You forcibly refocus your thoughts on the girl, to keep from straying back into dangerous territory. She’s actually kinda pretty, for a kid. Despite the fall and subsequent dust nap, her overlarge blue-and-purple sweater seems rather clean and well cared-for. Her shoulder-length brown hair, fanned out on the flowers beneath her head like a little halo, face peaceful, a tiny smile on her lips…

You blink, shake your head, and try to impose your will on your wandering mind once again. _Focus, you hopeless mess._

For all your lack of medical know-how, Mom did teach you one very useful trick.

You reach deep within yourself and call upon your magic. What little you have was discovered, honed, and trained over several years, but was still rather weak.

Focusing on your hands, you see them start to glow with a faint green light. That’s normal. What surprises you is that the girl’s chest starts to glow _red_. Do they have a red SOUL too? Why is it reacting now?

Ignoring it for now, you place your hands on either side of the insensate girl’s head. You will her wounds to heal. You will her to wake up. You will this to work, for all the good that’s done in the past. You’ve never managed to heal anything more than a small cut.

The phosphorescent glow spreads, bathing the pair of humans in vibrant green and soulful red, intensifying the hue of the surrounding flowers… and shining straight through your hands.

The magic dissipates as you stare at your hands in shock.

You hadn’t noticed. How could you not have noticed? Your hands, your clothes… all of you is every so slightly transparent.

For a moment, you’re confused.

_She touched me… I can’t be just a ghost… can I?_

Then reality kicks back in. You snap out of your daze to find yourself floating a good foot above the ground.

You’re disappointed with yourself. You should know better by now- nothing so good as a fully restored body could be true. Good things don’t happen to you.

You might as well milk your apparent ghost status for all it’s worth.

You attempt to sink into the floor, just to see if you can, but all you accomplish is smushing more flowers with your face.

No phasing through walls, apparently. Still, you can definitely touch things. It probably should have been obvious from how you woke up lying on the ground. _Now for this floating nonsense…_

You will yourself to float again. Nothing.

You imagine yourself flying. Nope.

You try jumping. Nada.

_Bah._

You resort to your usual method of problem-solving: pacing in circles.

You’re beginning to wonder if you imagined it, when you trip over a random rock lying on the cavern floor. You throw your arms up over your face instinctively, but the impact never comes.

You open one eye and find yourself hovering an inch away from the ground. You recoil, and somehow float upwards.

_This is going to take some getting used to._

\----------------------------------------------------------

You don’t know what you were expecting, but being back on the flowerbed wasn’t it.

A small groan escapes you as your body starts to complain again… but not so much as before. In fact, the awful headache is nearly gone.

Your eyes flutter open. You’re no longer directly in the beam of sunlight… and it’s maybe darker in general now?

_Ughh... How long was I out this time?_

As you prop yourself up with one arm, you come nearly face-to-face with someone else. You squeak in surprise, jumping back as much as you can in this awkward position, but only succeed in catching your foot in more flower stems and falling back into their golden embrace.

You hear an odd little snort, and look up again to see the green and yellow visitor struggling not to laugh. You put on your angry face for a moment (which only seems to make them more amused), but you’re more interested in your newfound companion.

Looking at them for a moment, you catch the startling red of their eyes. This is definitely the person you tried to help earlier, before you blacked out again. You can’t tell their gender just by looking at them, but that’s not exactly a new experience. You have difficulty recognizing anyone from more than three feet away. Easy way to fix that, though!

“Hi! I’m Frisk! What’s your name?”

They seem startled by your question. They seem hesitant to answer, for a moment.

“…Chara. Chara Dreemurr.”

“That’s a pretty name!”

Chara blinks. “I suppose.”

“…Are you okay, Chara? Earlier, y-”

They blanch, before interrupting harshly, cutting the air with their hand. “I’m **_fine_**. Don’t worry about it. Jeez, kid. You fall down here and nearly die, and the first thing you do is worry about some ghost you just met?”

You refuse to let them stop you from helping. You’ll just ask again later.

 _Wait a minute… ghost?_ Your gaze snaps back to Chara. _They look solid…_

“Oh.”

Chara wore a sad smirk that all but said “took you long enough,” legs crossed, floating a foot above the edge of the flowerbed.

This is new. You’ve never met a ghost before.

They apparently don’t want to talk about what happened to them. Okay, then.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Did you carry me back over here?”

This kid is persistent.

“I did. You’re pretty light, you know.” You refrain from mentioning the magic. One surprise at a time.

“Thank you! I feel a lot better now!”

You close your eyes and shake your head. “It was nothing. Seriousl-”

Suddenly, a body impacts yours and small arms encircle you. You freeze for a moment, before realizing that Frisk had gotten up and hugged you. Her smiling face looks up at you, glimmers of blue escaping from beneath her eyelids.

 _Holy_ shit _she’s cute. And apparently a hugger._

As you begin to extricate yourself from the overly enthusiastic child, you catch sight of a small star pinned to a hair clip above and behind her ear. It’s exactly like the one you wear, except on a clip instead of a headband. That’s definitely something you need to know about… later.

Not even being removed from the hug dampened the happiness on Frisk’s face. It’s seriously adorable.

“Ahem. The real question is, are _you_ all right? That’s a serious fall you took.”

Frisk’s smile dims slightly, but doesn’t go out. “I still hurt… a lot. But I’m okay!” She looks around for a minute. “Where are we?”

“This is the Underground,” you explain. “The domain of the monsters.”

At the word “monsters”, Frisk suddenly looks terrified.

“M-m-monsters? I thought they were just stories!”

The sudden terror on her face tears at you. “Calm down! Yes, they’re real, but they’re mostly nice people. They won’t hurt you.”

She doesn’t seem convinced. Doesn’t matter- you’ll show her.

“Come with me. I’ll take you to Snowdin- you can rest there for a while.” You start floating over towards the door in the east wall.

“Oh my gosh thank you so much that’d be great I know we just met-”

You chuckle softly as your new adorable companion races to catch up, bubbling with gratitude and a joy you’ve never seen in another human.

This is certainly going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This Chara doesn’t hate humans. Not really. 
> 
> I hope you like hugs and snark, because there’s going to be a lot of that.


	3. Takeoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: These chapters will be chronological, but not all-encompassing: there will be timeskips. I intend to focus more on the interactions between Chara and Frisk than the plot elements of Undertale- you guys have seen it all anyway. 
> 
> (If you haven’t, why are you reading this? Go play the game!)
> 
> This chapter picks up partway through the Ruins.

“Well, that was a thing.” Your voice falls flat against the purple brick walls.

Understatement of the century, there. Seeing Mo- Toriel. _Toriel_. You have no right to call her that after…

Seeing Toriel again dredged up a whirlpool of emotions you had to clamp down on immediately, or be dragged down with them again. It’s easier to not care. Especially since she apparently can’t see you. Or hear you. Or recognize your continued existence in any way whatsoever.

You gave up entirely after you tried to grab her arm and make her look at you… and your hands passed right through her. Then she ran off down the hallway, and you _know_ you saw something flash across Frisk’s face. Fear? It was gone too quickly for you to really tell, but it’s ridiculous to think Toriel would ever just abandon a child like that. Looks like emotional repression is something else you have in common.

Then again, that smile lit up like the sun once Toriel re-emerged and gave them that old phone. You guess they’re just determined to stay positive. It’s endearing- in an embarrassingly naïve kind of way.

Just as you’re about to break the silence Toriel left in her wake, a Froggit hops around the corner. Frisk’s expression is conflicted- they probably want to hug it, but they’re understandably wary after that asshole flower. “It’s a Froggit,” you tell her.

She becomes outright terrified when her soul floats loose. She “practiced” with the dummy, but having a monster start another real fight looks to be giving her flashbacks.

“Froggit doesn’t seem to know why it’s here. It’s not like Flowey…”

Frisk looks a bit calmer.

[[♫]](https://youtu.be/NIMimINF5pM)

“…but it’s still weak.”

Anger boils up inside you faster than ever before. How _dare_ this thing remind you of him? As familiar cold fury settles over you, your voice echoes from down the dark, dark well where your heart used to be. “It’s _weak_. Just like _all_ monsters. If it can scratch you at all, it won’t be on purpose. Couldn’t hurt a fly to save his own life. Or _anyone’s_.”

It isn’t a snarl. Your words would sound dispassionate even to you, if not for the acid dripping from every syllable. This is **_his_** fault just as much as yours.

Words continue to form. “We should just destroy it now and save us all the trouble.” You become aware of a grotesque smile stretching across your face.

Did you hear a small noise? It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is crushing this worthless monster in front of you. Your hand seizes a branch lying on the ground and prepares to bring it down on the Froggit… but something stops it.

“NO!” A small, shrill voice rings out.

You startle, and look down. Frisk is standing between you and the walking dust pile, both their hands stretched up to catch your wrist. You try to wrench your hand away, but she holds firm, and the movement dislodges the tears forming in her sapphire eyes.

Your eyes widen even further as you take in the face pointed up at you. Frisk looks terrified. Of _you_. Her arms... no, her whole _body_ is shaking, waterfalls flowing down her cheeks.

More words pierce the tense air, frantic pleas giving way to something… harder. “You can’t just _kill_ it! It hasn’t done anything! Chara, why are you doing this? This isn’t you!”

You instinctively start to retort.

_This isn’t_ me _? What do_ you _know about me? You have no_ idea _what I’m capable of!_

Before the words can get past your lips, Frisk shrieks in pain and collapses. A bullet of magic emerges from between her ribs and whizzes off down the hall. The Froggit attacked her _now_? Your rage returns like a tidal wave, poised to crash down and reduce that backstabbing frog to so much powder.

“Flowey was _wrong_!”

You stop, heart ringing. You look down again. Frisk is huddled on the ground, hair all over her face, one arm out towards you, still refusing to fight.

“It doesn’t have to be ‘kill or be killed’! Isn’t Toriel proof of that?”

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=IgPpWTEanrY)

And just like that, the fog clears. You’re still angry- somewhere in the back of your mind, you doubt you’ll ever really stop being angry- but you’re back in control now. Even the mention of Toriel can do that for you, despite all the chaos her name rouses in your head.

She wouldn’t want this. Frisk doesn’t want this… and you’ve scared her half to death.

You form words of your own volition, forced out though they are. “I’m sorry.”

You lower your arm and drop the stick on the ground next to Frisk, offering the emptied hand to her. She takes it (did she hesitate there?), and despite your ghostly status, you pull the small girl back to her feet. Her hair falls back into place (mostly) and your gaze is once more drawn to the star over her temple.

“We’ll talk later. First we have to deal with this.” You gesture towards the Froggit.

That didn’t come out right. That sounds like you still want to kill it. “Any ideas?” you ask, to distract her while you try to think of something. You never had to fight anyone while you lived down here…

Frisk clears her throat and turns back toward the Froggit. “H-hello! Y-you’re kinda cute! Do you have a name?”

You give her your best deadpan stare. “Is that the best you’ve got, kid?” She pouts a little at being called “kid”. Good info- you’ll be sure to make full use of it.

You glance back at the Froggit, and for some absurd reason, it’s… blushing? Little ribbits escape it as it bashfully looks away from Frisk.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “It can’t have understood… but it was flattered anyway?” Frisk snickers at you and the blushing amphibian. In any case, it doesn’t seem like it wants to fight anymore. That’s the important part.

The Froggit croaks happily at the pair of you and hops away back down the hall it came from. Frisk gives it a little wave as it turns the corner. Nothing can keep her down, can it? As she turns, you glimpse a small spot of blood on her sweater where the bullet struck.

“Come on,” you tell her. “There’s a room around the corner you can rest in for a minute.” As you start walking after the Froggit, you wonder if you’ve been permanently relegated to the role of ghostly tour guide.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Since Chara apparently can’t put anything in their ghost pockets, you stow a couple of Monster Candies away for later. You feel kind of bad about taking more than one, but you haven’t eaten in what feels like days. How long has it even been since you fell?

You clamp down on a grimace as you plop down in the corner. All of you still aches from the fall, and the wound from the little frog monster burns through you like a molten needle. Making a fuss about it would just drag the mood back down, anyway. You’re not a little girl anymore- you’re nearly twelve! You can deal with a little pain.

You nibble on one of the candies as you watch Chara float around. They seem to like floating more than walking, despite that they can somehow do both. Aren’t ghosts supposed to just… pass through things?

Now that you think about it, would they even have been able to hit the frog? You know you can touch them, so you had just assumed anyone could, but then when they couldn’t touch Toriel... It’s not really important, so you let the thought go. It was lucky that you could see the frog well enough to see how cute it was. Being nice apparently works on monsters too… or at least regular monsters.

As you chomp down on the rest of the piece of candy, a weird tingling sensation spreads through you. It travels from the unfamiliar texture on your tongue down through your chest and into your limbs. It’s almost ticklish. You must have made a noise, because Chara’s looking down at you now, a question written across their normally closed face.

You poke yourself in the leg. It doesn’t hurt quite as much as before.

An amused voice interrupts your self-exam. “Monster food. It’s all got a bit of magic in it- your body absorbs it entirely, and uses it to speed up the healing process.” Chara hovers right in front of you- close enough that even _your_ eyes can make out their tiny little smirk.

You mouth drops open. “Magic? You mean magic is _real_?”

You didn’t know eyebrows could even go that high. “Of course magic is real. What did you think the monsters have been flinging around? Papier-mâché that hits like a bowling ball?”

You feel your face heating up, and fix your eyes on the floor between your shoes. “I… I don’t know what I thought it was,” you conclude lamely. “Everything’s been so weird since I got here that I’ve just been… going with it? I mean, first there was you and you’re a ghost or something and that’s cool and I can hug you but then there was the flower and ‘friendliness pellets’ and then nice goat lady threw fireballs and there were spikes and”

A finger over your lips stops your babbling. You bring your gaze upwards and find Chara with their other hand over their own mouth, translucent shoulders shaking with laughter. You bury your face in your hands and curl up into a little ball of flaming cheeks.

You didn’t know it was possible to be this embarrassed.

After a moment, Chara gets themselves back under control. Mostly. “I’m sorry. That was just the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” You assume they’re still smiling at you.

Your muffled _“OH MY GOD CHARA”_ only serves to get another giggle out of them. You want to curl up and die. At least you’ve already taken care of the first part.

When you can finally bring yourself to look again, and you think your face is less red, you find your ghostly tormentor floating upside down next to you. You let out a little snort at the sight of their longish brown hair dangling down towards the floor. Apparently gravity only applies when they want it to.

“…nice goat lady?” You just give them your best glower. “Well,” they say, contemplative, “I suppose it is an accurate description.”

Their face returns to the neutral seriousness they usually display. “So. Magic.”

You perk up a little bit. Are they going to explain how it works?

Chara spreads their arms, as if gesturing to an expanse of time. “Long ago, magic was commonplace. It’s always been integral to monsters’ existence, but humans used to have magic too. In fact…” They flip back upright, reach out slowly, and take your scraped-up left hand in theirs. “Some still do.”

Chara’s eyes close, and as their face scrunches up in concentration, their palms begin to glow a soft and vibrant green. You feel something thrum inside of you, and your chest begins to shine a matching red through your sweater.

You sit and stare as the glow intensifies, and the same tingling you felt from the candy envelops your hand. You can’t even process this. Chara is… healing you? Aren’t they a ghost? You just keep coming back to that, don’t you? You guess they aren’t your average ghost.

After a moment, Chara relaxes, and the glow fades. You gently withdraw your hand, and hold it up to your face. The bruises and scrapes that had accumulated on your hand are gone. It still feels slightly tender when you poke it, but flexing the fingers causes no pain at all.

Your wonder must have shown on your face, since Chara starts explaining again. “My magic was never very powerful- all I could ever do is heal minor injuries, or help with bigger ones.”

“If you like, I can try to heal the wound from the Froggit’s bullet.” You instinctively start to say yes, please, but then you remember where the bullet hit you.

So much for the blush calming down. It’s back in full force now.

Chara looks at you quizzically. “What’s up? Do you not want me to heal it?”

The words stick in your throat, for all that they were pouring out earlier. “I-It’s not that. It’s just that… uh… the frog got me… here.” You touch your ribs where the burning sensation ends, right under the edge of your recently-acquired bra.

Now it’s Chara’s turn to blush. They’ve been teasing you long enough- you feel a little satisfied to see _them_ flustered.

“Oh. Um. Right. It doesn’t really work through clothing… I guess if you’re not comfortable with that… it’s not exactly life-threatening.” They hold their left hand in their right and stroke the palm with their thumb, looking off to the side.

A tiny voice makes its way out of your throat. “No, I guess it’s fine… it’s probably not good to ignore it, even if it doesn’t hurt all that much.” The practicality Mom tried to teach you surfaces at odd moments. It actually hurts a **lot** , but Chara doesn’t need to know that.

Chara swallows nervously. “A-are you sure?”

You hesitate for a brief moment. “…yeah, I’m sure.” Chara seems surprised- you guess they took your short silence as uncertainty.

“…Okay, then…” Chara settles down on your right side, and you scoot forward a little so there’s space between you and the wall. Before you have a chance to think about it again, you grab the hem of your sweater at your right hip and pull it up above your first few ribs to reveal the magical bullet wound, bleeding slightly, as well as an impressive collection of bruises on your lower back. You and Chara wince almost simultaneously. _Geez, I really do match my sweater now. Weird… the mark looks more like a burn than a cut._

As the bruises are uncovered, Chara’s eyes narrow for a moment, and they look at you strangely. “I probably have more than that after that fall,” you confide in them. The odd expression vanishes. What were they thinking before you spoke up?

Just as you’re about to ask whether they’re going to do anything, Chara reaches out cautiously towards you with both hands. Despite the red returning to your face, you nod, and they place their palms softly over both ends of the magic wound. They feel cool against your skin, but not unpleasantly so.

_Just think of it like a doctor’s visit. Don’t be embarrassed, don’t be embarrassed…_

It’s unlikely that you were able to convince yourself, but you’re distracted when the green glow and the tingling return, the sensation running through your ribs alongside the pain. Chara’s concentration appears to be sparing them from further embarrassment, their face crinkling as they focus.

The burning that had been lancing through your chest slowly diminishes. Just as your arms are starting to get tired from holding your sweater up, Chara withdraws their hands.

You look back down at the exit wound. It’s barely even there anymore- just a small red mark. The pain isn’t gone entirely, but it’s barely noticeable now. As you let down your sweater again and look back at Chara to thank them, you startle. They look _tired_ now.

“Chara, are you ok? You look… tired?” Their eyes widen slightly before they shut them and shake their head rapidly. “No, no, no. We’ve been over this. Worry about yourself. I’m _fine_.” After a moment, their head drops forward and they sigh. “Using magic takes a lot out of me. I don’t think I’ll be able to do that again today, so watch yourself!”

“Okay!” You lean over and hug them again. They’re much closer to your height when sitting down on the actual ground. “Thank you,” you murmur into their side. Thank you for helping. Thank you for not killing the monster. Thank you for being here, you want to say, but the two words are all that come out.

“Gah!” You feel them hold their arms uncertainly in the air. “Again with the hugs?”

You giggle at their exasperation. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hugs and snark, as promised. The angst is free of charge.
> 
> I’m very sorry that this chapter took so long to make. I’ve been writing bits and pieces in the spare time I can scrabble together- college leaves little enough to work with.
> 
> I’d like to promise weekly updates, but that’s unfortunately unrealistic. It will likely be a few weeks before I can put together Chapter 4, as I finally have some ideas for Twin Souls (my other fic), and I feel like I’ve been neglecting it.
> 
> There will be more space things in the coming chapters, I swear.


	4. Starlight

_This is kinda nice._

For all that you’re supposed to be a ghost, she’s still warm.

You can’t bring yourself to let your arms drop and hug her back. Not yet. Even if you weren’t afraid of hurting her- you’re so useless that your healing magic is already exhausted- you’ve had no time at all to get used to an actual pleasant human who _wants_ to associate with you.

Hugs are no longer a foreign concept to you, after spending more than five minutes with the Dreemurrs… but you tend to instinctively retreat from physical contact anyway. No one on the surface ever wanted to understand you… and a lack of understanding tends to lead to a lack of restraint.

There’s something different about Frisk, though. Not even among monsters have you found anyone so relentlessly positive. The thousand tiny ways you’ve seen her weird inner _goodness_ shine through, just since she dropped in, has been enough to relax your guard. Slightly. Enough to not pull away, this time, but not enough to relax the automatic rigidity in your muscles. You wonder at how they seem not to have noticed.

Your reverie is broken as the bundle of floof wrapped around you lets out a tiny yawn. It occurs to you that she _has_ been through a lot today. Unconsciousness from falling down a hole doesn’t count as sleep, as far as the brain is concerned.

You come to a decision. “Alright, enough of that. Lemme go. We have to get through the rest of the Ruins before you collapse into a puddle of exhaustion and sweater.” She pulls away slowly, beaming at you despite the loss of her hugs.

Just for the hell of it, you decide to do a backflip off the floor instead of floating, or even standing up like a normal person. Ghost levitation makes everything easier… not that you couldn’t have done that even without its help.

A single stream of applause redirects your attention back down to where Frisk still sits. “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all eternity,” you deadpan, privately hoping that you won’t. “Now come on.” You gesture to the door, and start striding out of the room. You’re certainly not going to hold the kid’s hand the whole way… and you hear the telltale sounds of Frisk scrambling back to her feet and hurrying after you.

Why _do_ you keep thinking of her as a kid, anyway? She can’t be all that much younger than you. Maybe it’s just that’s she’s so tiny, or the contrast between her apparent naïveté and the centuries of facts and stories you have piled up in your head. After absorbing so many books, you feel older than you really are… not that you actually know your own age. They’d never bothered telling you that. You’d just started counting from when you fell.

Regardless, Frisk is certainly more… _mature_ than you’d originally thought. Your face starts to heat up again at the thought. It might be easier if you just pretend you didn’t notice the small curve of the bra peeking out from under her sweater as you were healing her. The memory of her smooth, light olive skin under your hands doesn’t help, either.

Fortunately, she can’t see your newly acquired red tinge from her spot behind you. Unfortunately, that also means you fail to notice any attempts to catch your attention until she catches up and grabs your sleeve.

You turn to look at her, but her gaze is locked on something to your left. “What’s _that_?” she breathes, pointing to the object of her attention. You glance over, prepared to explain a sign or another monster, and instead see a glimmering mass of _something_ floating over a pile of crisp red leaves.

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=dmfd9PoxATA)

You have no answer for her. You can only stare at the twinkling, ever-changing shape suspended in the still air. Out of place, yet somehow natural; the essence of a star, wrenched loose from the heavens.

It wouldn’t be right to call it beautiful… mesmerizing, certainly, an ethereal attraction that cannot be explained.

After a moment, you shake loose from the trance, sending your hair all across your face in a ruffled wave. Impatiently brushing it aside, you see Frisk still spellbound by… _whatever_ that is. You give her a poke in the shoulder to regain her attention.

“I have no idea what it is. Wasn’t here the last time I came through, that’s for sure,” you tell her- not that’s you’ve been here more than once in living memory. _Heh_. “All I can tell is it looks like a star.”

At the word “star”, Frisk perks up noticeably. “You think so too?” she asks, eyes wide in wonder and joy. You give her a small nod and a smaller smile.

Just as you’re about to ask her reason for being excited about that, she bounds off towards the Thing, crunching wantonly into the leafy carpet. You blink, frozen for an instant, before calling after her. “Frisk, _wait!_ What do you think you’re…”

“It’s fine! A star this size can’t be dangerous!” she insists, bouncing slightly as she kicks through the leaves towards the Thing. You glide over as quickly as you can, half-aware of the light it emits growing brighter as Frisk approaches it. Before you can stop her or get any more words out of your traitorous throat, her outstretched hand makes contact with one of the outer edges of the Thing, and a brilliant flash of light engulfs the room.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

When your vision clears, the first thing you notice is that the star is gone.

In its place floats a black panel of some kind, blocky writing scrawled across it. You stiffen instinctively as you see your soul floating before you again. Before you can really make sense of all of this, a hand grabs your still-outstretched arm, and you’re yanked around to face a **_very_** upset-looking Chara.

“FRISK!” they shout at you, and you step back in surprise at just how _angry_ they look, only to be restrained by their grip on your arm. “What was that? _What were you_ thinking _, to just charge in like that?_ ” they hiss. “You can’t go around sticking your hands into God-knows-what random floating _things_ you find down here! _You have no idea what that could have done!"_

Once the shock of being yelled at wears off, you’re afraid that they’ve gone back to that same place of dark fury. After a moment, though, you realize they’re really just worried about you, like how your parents get mad when you do something dangerous by accident. It’s actually really sweet.

“Or, for that matter, what it _did_ do…” You’re dragged back to the present as Chara speaks again, now sounding more nervous than angry.

You gently cover the hand on your arm with your own, trying to recapture Chara’s attention and reassure them… but the instant you make contact, their head whips around, ruby pupils tiny against the wide white of their eyes. Their whole body visibly tenses, and they look ready to punch you and run.

You flinch away, jerking your hand back from theirs. They remain frozen, staring at you like a cornered animal, ready to pounce.

You don’t understand. That the simple touch of a hand could change their demeanor so quickly was a foreign concept to you. Simple contact, being held… these things bring you endless happiness.

When you hugged them before, they didn’t react like this at all. Those didn’t feel like real hugs, since they didn’t hug back… and there was something off about it, but you thought that was just because they’re a ghost. Now you think there must be something more to it.

The moment seems to stretch on forever: Chara wide-eyed and motionless, left hand still clutching your arm, you just standing there, confusion and hurt written across your face.

Chara exhales, closing their eyes, and time resumes.

“I’m s-” they begin, releasing your arm, but you cut them off with a simple “Thank you.”

Their eyebrows arch towards the ceiling. “For what?” they ask. “All I’ve done is freak out. Repeatedly.” The bitterness in their voice as they look away makes you want to hug them forever… but you probably shouldn’t do that, given what just happened.

“Thank you for worrying.” You shut away everything else you wanted to say. They can talk about it when they’re ready.

The last remnants of fear and tension fade from Chara’s form. Their eyes soften, looking at you as if to say “You understand.” They turn, looking back up at the hovering black panel.

“Chara, LV1, 780:21, Ruins – Leaf Pile…. Save/Return?” they read. Apparently they don’t know what’s going on either. Saving sounds like a good thing, though, so you reach out towards the glowing “Save” panel, glancing at Chara. They seem to consider for a moment, then shrug, and you take that as approval.

When you make contact, another flash lights up the room. The words on the panel turn yellow, changing to “File saved” as your floating soul pulses with red light, then vanishing as the star reappears.

“Playfully crinkling through the leaves… fills you with determination.”

You shoot Chara a questioning look, and they respond with another shrug. “It just felt right,” they say.

They seem to come to a decision as you look over at them. They turn to you and command, “Sit down.” You plop down in the leaves, reflexively obeying. They cross their legs and hover just above the surface of the leaves.

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=MGoHQkwMTy4#Epic_Soul_Factory_-_Tokyo_Lights)

As you look up at them, suspended effortlessly in midair, long brown hair framing their face, you realize they’re actually quite pretty. You’d never really paid attention before, with all the ridiculous situations you’ve been in since you fell. Not that you’ve ever really paid much attention to the looks of other people, yet… and it doesn’t help that you can’t really make out faces more than a few feet away. At this distance, Chara has a sort of genderless beauty to them. Their lean, angled face and pale complexion emphasizes those brilliant ruby eyes.

“Hey! Ground control to Creepy McStareFace! You listening to me?”

You’re jolted out of your thoughts to find an annoyed and slightly flustered Chara waving a hand in front of your face.

 _Oh God, how long have I been staring at them?_ You fall back into your old habits, and your mouth is moving before you realize what you’re saying. “Sorry- I just got lost in your eyes~” _Why did I say that? I need to go crawl into a hole and die now before they realize that’s true._

They blink at you for a moment, red spreading across their face. Clearing their throat, they compose themselves, apparently deciding to ignore that remark, much to your relief. “Now that you’re paying attention… that hair clip. Where did you get it?”

Your hair clip? Where is this coming from? You reach up and touch the star pinned to your left temple. “This? My mom gave it to me. I’ve had it forever… she said it was to match my eyes, since they’re always full of stars.” Memories of your mom’s gentle smile and warm hugs flood your mind. It’s only been a day or so since you were home with her, but it feels like everything has changed since then.

You look at Chara again to see them even paler than usual, frozen and staring yet again. They lock your gaze to theirs, and demand, “Frisk. Is that _exactly_ what she said?”

This is a kind of intensity you’ve not yet seen from them. Something in their eyes tells you this is important, even though you have no idea why. Hesitantly, you reply, “I-I think so. It was a long time ago…” Try as you might, you can’t think of anything else she said.

Chara just looks at you for another moment, considering, before leaning back against the wall and sliding down to the floor. With an expression of wonder, they softly admit, “That’s the same thing _he_ said to me.”

Just as you’re about to ask, they speak again. “He never gave me his name… but he was the only one to give me the time of day. And… this.” They reach up and part their hair slightly on the right side of their head, revealing a star charm just like yours, mounted on a headband.

In fact, it’s _exactly_ like yours. With unsteady hands, you reach up and unclasp your clip, holding it up against Chara’s. They could have been twins- down to the imperfection in one point, they match perfectly.

Chara takes one look at your face, and knows. You don’t have to say it- they know the two are exactly the same. As you hesitantly fasten your clip back in its proper place, they continue speaking.  
  
“I went to go see him, at the big hill next to his cabin, when _they_ didn’t want me around. We’d lay out on the hill and he’d tell me the names of all the constellations, how far away they were, anything I asked about.” The genuine smile spreading across their face as they reminisce, leaning back on their elbows, instantly becomes one of your new favorite things. You resolve, then and there, to make them smile as much as you can. “He’d even sneak me a few books on space,” they continue, “once I’d exhausted the ones _they_ had lying around.”

They prop themselves up a little more, tilting their head to look at you, smile still lighting up their eyes. “Did you know it takes light 4.2 years to reach the closest star to our system-” “Alpha Centauri!” you interrupt, grinning hugely at their surprise. That one was easy. They just blink at you for a moment, before their eyes narrow and a mischievous smirk crosses their face. “Is that so?” they retort. “But did you know it’s actually just the brightest of the triple-star system named for it?”

You hadn’t, actually, ever heard of such a thing as a triple-star system, but it sounds really cool. Your amazement must have shown on your face, because their smirk became even smugger as they scored a point on you.

You push your competitive spirit aside. You’d love to just sit and listen to them talk for a while, but you have to know… “Chara, have you ever seen one of the other planets? There’ve been a couple of pictures I can make out, but my eyes are… really bad,” you conclude lamely, flushing in embarrassment, even though they must have noticed your awful eyesight by now.

When you look up again, they look shocked and pitying for just an instant. Long enough that you look away again. You wait, certain they’re about to ask you why you bother trying to stargaze. You’ve asked yourself that question enough times.

Instead, you hear a gentle “They’re beautiful.”

Your gaze returns to Chara in time to see them smiling softly at you. “Mars seems like a dim red star, floating off on its own. Saturn is a pale yellow ghost, wandering amongst the asteroids. Jupiter shines a purest white, watching over its smaller siblings.” As they speak, you’re lulled into a trance, imagining the colored flames of the planets dancing in the fading twilight of the evening sky.

Before they can go on, you feel the need to ask the question that’s been slowly burning in the back of your mind ever since they casually mentioned it.

“Chara…” you cut in, timidly. They look surprised, and as they open their mouth to ask, you say, “Why didn’t they want you around?”

Their expression darkens instantly. In a voice too bright and brittle to be calm, they reply, “Who would? Instead of a normal child, they got a demon who can’t decide what gender they are.”

In their vibrant ruby eyes, you see years of rage and sadness, tempered only by acceptance of their fate. As the dark smile returns, they whisper,

“I’m a freak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not enough people talk about the SAVE points in detail. Let’s fix that.
> 
> I have negligible real life experience with genderfluid folks, so I’m basing their handling of it on the characters of Tedd from [El Goonish Shive](http://www.egscomics.com/index.php?id=1896) and Ky/Kylie from [Rain](http://rainlgbt.smackjeeves.com/comics/1046129/rain/). In case it wasn’t clear, I’m not attempting to be derogatory to anyone here- my poor Chara’s just had bad experiences.
> 
> I’m so very sorry about how long this chapter took to come out. College happens sometimes. I’m going to try to update a lot more frequently now that I’m on break.
> 
> Rose/Rotoa and SnoteleksMilk, the original creators of the Cosmonaut AU, have taken down the relevant blogs due to large numbers of other projects. Rose has graciously sent me the primary contents of the AsteriFrisk description section, from which I will be drawing for characterization, and I’ve conferred with Milk about their Chara, but the original blog contents are no longer available for viewing.
> 
> I appreciate any and all feedback, positive or critical. I really do. I’m not 100% confident about parts of this chapter, so if something doesn’t sit well with you folks, or you think the writing could be improved in certain ways, please do let me know. If you need ideas, I'd love hearing about specific parts you really liked, or really didn't (and preferably why). I have sworn a solemn oath to reply to every comment I get on these fics, to show you guys how happy it makes me when someone takes the time to respond.
> 
> *flails off towards Jupiter*


	5. How I Wonder What You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m going to be using double break lines to denote a POV switch from now on, since I have a number of scene cuts in this chapter.
> 
> This is a longer chapter than normal, to make up for my super slow updating. Enjoy!

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=DZCjyJMo5xM#%5BOriginal_Composition%5D_F_et_-_Sad_Heart_Warming_Piano_Guitar_Music)

“I’m a freak.”

The words hang heavily in the air, and you instantly wish you could take them back. It wouldn’t make them any less true, but she doesn’t need to hear about your issues any more than she already has. You open your mouth to say something, anything…

“Why?”

The single word didn’t come from you. You look back down at Frisk, still seated on her leafy cushion, gazing steadily at you with… _confusion_ written on her face?

“…I’m not normal…” you begin, hesitantly, only for Frisk to interrupt you again. “Neither am I!” she insists. “Why should that mean anything?”

For a moment, you feel a sudden burst of hope… and squash it as quickly as always. Frisk can’t possibly be like you. She’s clearly not getting it. “It’s not the same,” you object. “You just have awful vision. I’m…”

_Dammit. What happened to not making them deal with my issues?_ They look a little hurt at your implication that their eye problems are unimportant, but you have to make them understand now. You pause, trying to think of a way to explain.

“…You’re a girl, right?” you ask. Frisk gives a little nod, brows furrowed- obviously still confused. You had thought so, but it’s good to be sure. “Well, sometimes I am too… and sometimes I feel like a boy instead.” God, it sounds so dumb when you put it like that.

You see their expression start to relax, and you have to finish explaining quickly, before she gets the wrong idea. “Most of the time, though, I’m just… neither. It’s not something I have any control over… if only. Didn’t stop _them_ from trying anyway.” You shove the resurfacing memories back down. You really don’t need to deal with those right now.

You have to take a deep breath before continuing, despite that you don’t think you have lungs anymore. “I’m not _natural_. And nobody wanted anything to do with me.” And now she wouldn’t, either. Why did you tell her? You turn away and close your eyes, fully prepared to hear the same scorn in her voice as in all the others’.

“Nope.”

Your eyes snap back open, blinking your confusion at the wall. You twist your head to the left, capturing Frisk in the corner of your vision. “What?”

“Nope!” she chirps. “You’re not a freak.” Heedless of your bewildered gaze, she continues, “I’m friends with some boys that decided they wanted to be girls instead. It took them a while to decide, but they’re happier now! I think _everyone_ is. Their parents could tell something was wrong, before.”

Impossible. They just _allowed_ that? You’ve never met a human who would accept that and move on, let alone be _happy_. The walls you put up in your head shudder and burst, old taunts and jeers flooding your thoughts. _~~“Freak!”~~ ~~“Abomination!”~~ ~~“MONSTER!”~~_

That’s right. You’re a monster now. Ice floods your veins once more, and you find yourself snarling, _“So what?”_ at the chipper girl sitting before you. “So their parents didn’t kick them out. What then? You can’t tell me the rest of your village just _accepted_ that!”

Frisk flinches away from you, your words stabbing into her like knives of frost. The cheerful face she had pasted on wavers, threatening to crack… but she appears to gather herself, despite the silent glare you level at her.

“They did.”

The words shatter you- a hammer blow to the ice that forms your core, leaving you utterly stunned.

“And they would for you, too.”

Unable to respond, you just stare at her, the hostility vanished from your gaze.

Seeing that you aren’t going to reply, Frisk continues, “I’ve never heard of someone who changes gender all the time before, but it’s not all that different from my friends. Who wouldn’t be ok with that?”

It’s just not an issue for her. The thought bounces around the inside of your skull, dislodging even more of the things you _knew_ about her because she’s human.

You don’t think she really understands, but her eyes say that she doesn’t care, that she accepts you anyway. _Frisk… You’re too pure for this world._

She belongs down here, with monsters.

\----------------------------------------------------------  
\----------------------------------------------------------

After Toriel finishes fussing over you, making sure you’re really not hurt (anymore, at least), she leads you inside the cute little house at the end of the Ruins, Chara hovering behind you. All you can think about is sleeping- the shining star-thing outside barely even registers.

When she rushes off to save her pie, it’s all you can to do stay on your feet long enough to drag the door to ‘your’ room open and collapse on the bed.

You hear Chara say something, at the faint edge of your awareness, but sleep crashes over you before you can even process it.

\----------------------------------------------------------

You fall.

Endlessly, the stars recede from you, impossibly clear and ever further out of reach.

Unable to move, you can only watch as your dreams become ever more distant.

You call out for help. You call for Mom. You call for Chara.

You call for anyone.

But nobody comes…

And you fall.

\----------------------------------------------------------

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=h9hY_8pmHbo#Outertale_OST-_The_Start_Of_Your_Journey_\(Home\)_%E3%80%90Jeffrey_Watkins%E3%80%91)

You start awake, bouncing, as though you just landed on the bed from a great height.

You can’t move, and you panic for a few seconds, before realizing that someone (probably Toriel) tucked you in while you slept. You wiggle around to extract yourself from the blankets.

“Well, well. Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

The voice comes from directly above you, and you startle again as you see Chara floating over you, dangling hair framing their face and highlighting their tiny smirk.

“I had been wondering if you were gonna laze around for _another_ entire day…”

You blink at them, mind still sluggish from your recent awakening. When it hits you, your eyes go wide. You gasp, “I’ve been asleep for a whole _day?”_

A genuine, wry smile breaks through. “Yup. You sleep like a rock, kid. Good thing Toriel was here to lend a bed. I’m not sure you would’ve made it all the way to Snowdin.”

Their smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared. “I still don’t know _why_ she’s here, though…” Chara looks troubled. Before you can ask why Toriel shouldn’t be here, they tumble off to the side of their midair perch, landing with both feet planted firmly on the ground.

As you sit up, giggling at their overdramatic landing, you notice something different about them today. Before, they had on a green and yellow striped sweater, not unlike your own, but now it’s been replaced by a hoodie of the same colors. Their chestnut hair peeks out from the raised hood, and the body of the jacket hangs unzipped, showing glimpses of the plain white undershirt beneath.

You tilt your head to the side questioningly, your hair falling across your face. After a brief flicker of confusion and… _something_ else that dusts their cheeks with pink, they follow your gaze to their new attire. The small smirk comes back across their face as they say, “Well, I had to find _something_ to do for a whole day. Apparently I can ‘change clothes’ if I focus hard enough, and I was feeling ambiguous today.”

You’re lost for a moment, until your conversation yesterday comes back to you. A silly idea pops into your head, and you make a show of looking them over, pursing your lips slightly. Ignoring the bemused look they send you, you finish your scan, nod at them, and pronounce “Cute,” with the most serious expression you can muster.

Their composure fails instantly, and you giggle quietly as they sputter and a spreading tinge of red adorns their pale cheeks. “Frisk,” they huff, “it’s bad enough when you flirt with my mother! Don’t start on me, too.”

You open your mouth to respond, but shut it again, deciding to reply with a cheeky little smile instead. That’s the second time they’ve referred to Toriel as their mother… but you don’t want to ruin the mood by bringing it up again. Not after their sudden icy silence when you mentioned it after the phone call.

Your gaze lands upon the plate sitting on the floor behind Chara, and your stomach immediately grumbles as your face lights up. “Is that Toriel’s pie?” you ask, excitedly.

They spare a glance over their shoulder. “Yup. Knock yourself out. I’m not particularly… present, at the moment, and I don’t know if I _can_ eat, anyway.”

The words worry you a little bit, but for the moment, your stomach drives you. You dive off the bed and start scarfing down the enormous slice of pie. It’s a good thing Toriel left you a fork, ‘cause you would have just shoveled it with your hands if you had to. _How can anything without blueberries taste so good?_ You feel the slight tingle of magic flow through you as you eat, but nothing else happens this time. You guess everything’s been healed by now.

You finish the entire slice in less than a minute. Chara looks impressed.

\----------------------------------------------------------

You bring the emptied plate out to what you assume is the dining room, since you can see a large table in one corner. As you enter, you find Toriel sitting in a massive stuffed armchair by the fireplace, tiny reading glasses perched on her nose as she reads… _101 Facts About Snails?_

She notices you as you shuffle up to her with the plate. “Good afternoon, my child,” she says, smiling at you as she leans forward in her chair. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes!” You beam at her, offering up the plate. “Thank you for the pie! It was delicious!”

Toriel looks delighted to have someone praise her cooking. “You are most welcome, my child.” She marks her place in the book, setting and the glasses aside, and takes the plate from you as she rises from the chair, walking into the next room.

You’re about to follow her when Chara speaks up from behind you. “Hey. You should ask her about making you some glasses like hers. They’re magic, you know.”

You glance at them, wishing they would let you tell Toriel they were there. You can’t respond to them in earshot of her without having to say _something_ to explain. It’s a decent idea, though. It’s not like your parents couldn’t afford glasses for you… it’s just that every time they tried, you got the worst headaches you’ve ever experienced.

When Toriel comes back in, you pipe up, asking, “Did you make those glasses yourself? Can you do that with fire magic?” You need fire to make glass, after all.

She seems somewhat taken aback by the question, and for a second you wonder if you said something wrong. Then her smile returns, tinged with a sadness you can’t place. “I did, my child. May I presume you would like a pair of your own?”

You’re torn between wanting to gasp with joy and hide your head in shame. “Yeah… my eyes are really bad at far-away things,” you murmur, settling for looking away. You do wonder why she didn’t ask if you had your own, before you fell...

When you look back up, her kindly maroon eyes catch your own. She says, “I think I may still have an extra pair your size lying around. I…” She falters, glancing away, and continues, “I had to practice a great deal to get them right.” Toriel strides across the room and out towards the bedrooms, pace more hurried than before.

“Well, _that_ was weird.”

You turn to see Chara sifting through the bookshelves in the corner of the room nonchalantly, as if they hadn’t said anything at all. Just as you’re about to ask which weird part they’re referring to, they speak again. “She’s not normally that skittish. And why would she have glasses in _your_ size? She’s…” Chara stops dead, staring at a couple of books in the bottom corner of the shelf. “ _No_ ,” they breathe, the beginnings of a real smile creeping across the visible side of their face.

As you rush over to see what they’ve found, Chara pulls out one of the books, and you glimpse the title: _The Wonders of the Cosmos_. They let it fall open, skimming through the slightly yellowed pages, stained and discolored along the top edge, filled with pictures of planets, nebulas, and galaxies.

They look up at you, a pure wonder in their ruby eyes that you’ve never seen before, and a sudden rush of protectiveness sweeps over you. You want to see that look on their face again, and again. _Where did that come from?_ You give yourself a mental shake, focusing on the words they’ve started to speak.

“… favorite book. It’s a _collection_ of space books! More than I ever had, even down here!” They turn back to the shelf, running a hand across the spines. _Do they seem more solid than just a second ago?_ They murmur excitedly, “How did they all get here? Some of these, I had in New Home…”

As they read a few of their favorite space facts to you, the joy in their eyes fills you with determination.

\----------------------------------------------------------

You’re still not entirely sure what it is that “saving” does, but it seems like a good idea to keep doing it, since that’s how it works in the couple of video games you’ve played.

You return to the living room after saving at the star outside. Chara’s still poring over their book in the corner, and you whisper a warning to them as you hear Toriel’s footsteps approach again. Just in time, they lay the open book down on the floor as if you had been reading it, and the purple-robed goat matron walks back in with a small pair of round glasses in one oversized paw.

She says, “I’m sorry for taking so long, my child. They were in a box behind a great many things in the storage room. Would you like to try them on?”

You light up instantly, replying, “Yes, please!” She offers them to you, bending down to your height, and you take them from her paw, unfold the arms, and slip them on. They’re not a perfect fit- they weren’t made for you, after all- but it doesn’t matter! Looking through the lenses, you don’t even have to squint to make out the details of the flowers on the table, or things on the far side of the room! It does seem like you can’t read with them on, though, since your hands are blurry when you hold them up in front of your face, but that’s nothing, since these don’t seem to be giving you an instant headache like the rest.

“Oh my gosh, these are great!” You gush at Toriel, an amused smile on her face at your obvious eagerness.

“I’m glad they help, my child,” she says, musing, “I suppose the magic imbued into the lenses can be of use to anyone. I hope you will make good use of them while you live here.”

A sudden sinking feeling interrupts your glee. Hesitantly, you ask, “…live here?”

Toriel and Chara must have heard something in your tone, since they both turn to look directly at you as you protest, “But I can’t live here. I have to get back to the surface. I have to go home!”

Dread fills your stomach with a leaden weight as Toriel shakes her head, expression strained, and Chara stares at you in bewilderment.

“My child… _this_ is your home, now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Mwahahaha.
> 
> ♫ Drawing parallels, AU references, ♫  
> ♫ Borrowing shamelessly from RWBY! ♫
> 
> (Does anyone else wake up from dreams as if they just landed on their bed, and the whole thing bounces with the momentum?)
> 
> I know when I first played Undertale, I was terrified of Toriel the entire time. I was convinced that she would turn out to be an evil witch, or something, and something awful would happen if I tried to leave.
> 
> I was right about one of those things, from a certain point of view.


	6. Per Ardua Ad Astra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for leaving the story on a cliffhanger like that for literally months! I had college to finish.
> 
> I strongly encourage all readers to make use of my music links for this chapter.
> 
> Here we go.
> 
> [UPDATE 4/8/18: I had to replace the music link for scene 3 of this chapter with a piano tutorial version, as that's all that remains on YouTube of the song I wanted. T_T ]

[[♫]](https://youtu.be/nlC5xRsl6Nk)

“My child… _this_ is your home, now.”

You stand frozen in place, unable to process Toriel’s words.

Is she… not going to let you leave?

Before you can muster the will to respond, Chara speaks up from the corner. “Why would you want to _leave_?”

You look over at them, and are immediately taken aback by the anger and confusion written across their face. “Humans don’t deserve you,” they growl, fists clenched at their sides. “All they deserve is the pain they inflict on everyone around them. Why don’t you want to stay?”

“Stay here, with monsters. Stay here, with Mom. Stay with _me_.” Their tone becomes almost pleading by the end, the anger faded and distant.

Toriel won’t meet your gaze. Chara won’t look away.

“I…” you start, and then falter. The phantom warmth of Mom’s arms around you and your dream of the stars won’t let you stay silent.

“I’m sorry,” you tell them, eyes locked to the floor. “I can’t stay.”

A soft thump comes from the table as Toriel sets down the box she found the glasses in. “Very well,” she says. “I must attend to something. Please wait here for a moment.”

Something in her expression tells you that whatever she intends to do isn’t something you want. The instant she strides out of the room, you follow, Chara’s silent glare burning into the back of your head.

You catch a glimpse of white fur vanishing down the stairs to the basement, and dash after her as fast as you can. For all your efforts, you lose sight of her as she speeds through the gloomy tunnel under the house. This place almost looks like no one’s set foot in it for decades, except that it’s free of dust.

Corners and carvings rush past you as you run, seeming to move steadily on their own as you stay rooted in place in the endless corridor. The early scenes graven into the walls seem to depict monsters on the surface, but are quickly overtaken by an entire hallway of war. Stylized humans clash with creatures out of your old storybooks, and some that defy comparison. Strange, spidery runes line the edges of each section, much more finely cut than the images. You catch a glimpse of a circle of figures standing around a mountain, heart-shaped icons above their upraised arms. The rest of the carvings don’t make much sense to you, but you figure they’re showing other areas in the Underground.

The last section of engravings to flow past you before the walls return to smooth purple stone are detailed images of… humans? As you sprint by, you see that the images are of one monster and a small number of human kids, all in the same sharp, fine lines that look more like they were carved with a white-hot razor than a chisel. Before you can think about what that means, your legs carry you around yet another corner, and there you find Toriel, standing before an enormous stone door inscribed with the same symbol as on her robes. You stumble to a stop, legs burning.

Without turning around, she begins to speak. “Every human that falls into this place meets the same fate. They come. They leave. They die.” She must have heard you coming a long way off.

 _Wait, wait,_ die _?_

“If you leave,” she continues, “you will not make it back to the Surface. They… _Asgore_ … will kill you. This is for your own protection.” She gestures to the intricate doors. “This is the only exit from the Ruins. I am going to destroy it.”

You can’t help yourself any longer. “No!” you cry out as she steps towards the doors, raising her hands. She freezes in place, a slight tremor to her shoulders. Before she speaks again, Chara walks out from behind you and stands at Toriel’s side, hooded, silent, and expressionless.

Toriel turns to face you, her once-soft maroon eyes hard and pitiless. “You wish to leave so badly? Prove yourself.”

Chara smiles, and you almost recoil in fear. As the hollow grin spreads across their face, they demand, “Show me the strength of your convictions!”

“Prove to me you are strong enough to survive.”

“You belong down here, with monsters.”

As the sudden shock of betrayal hits you like a hammerblow to the stomach, flames ignite in Toriel’s open palms.

…

Toriel and Chara block the way.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=GUyLUE8CKc4)

The fireball misses you by a hair’s breadth, splashing flames across the faded purple brickwork.

You sag against the wall, panting, your favorite sweater scorched around the edges on top of all the abuse it’s already been through, stained a faint crimson by the light of your soul. You’re not made for this amount of running around and dodging- you can already tell you’re going to be incredibly sore when this is over.

Toriel looks slightly concerned at your evident exhaustion, but maintains the dancing patterns of fire that have kept you on the run for several minutes now. Chara still stands at her side, unmoving since the fight began. They seem content to watch you struggle, their manic grin replaced by expressionless contemplation.

You both know you have the toy knife you found on the balcony, but you refuse to use it against Toriel. You haven’t come this far through the Underground to start hurting people now.

“What are you doing?” asks Toriel, her fiery weavings pausing for a moment. “Fight back, or flee!” Her brow furrows slightly, apparently confused by your lack of aggression. You shove the pain of betrayal back down inside and keep dodging. You refuse to be stopped, but neither will you harm this woman who wants so badly to be a mother to you.

 _I refuse. I refuse!_ The mantra pushes you to keep going even when your knees and palms are bleeding from throwing yourself to the ground repeatedly to duck under ropes of fire. The hardness in Toriel’s eyes is beginning to fade, even as she insists, “Fight me or run away!” You start to hope that she’ll see reason if you just keep trying.

And then something slams into your side, bowling you straight into the path of an oncoming fireball.

It hurts like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It feels like most of your body has ignited, and a scream rips from your throat at the sheer agony.

When your vision clears again, you expect to see your outstretched arms burnt beyond recognition, but the only effect on your body itself is a slight redness to your visible skin, no worse than a mild sunburn. Your soul, however, seems to be dimmer and less vibrant than a moment ago, a circle of faint red light flickering around it.

Chara stands over you, eyes wide. “You’ll never survive if you can’t pay attention to two opponents at once,” they intone, voice seemingly devoid of empathy… but their emotionless mask chips away even as they speak, expression hinting at the shock and guilt behind their eyes. You stagger back onto your feet, and resume your dodging stance, glaring defiantly at the ghost you thought was your friend. You have nothing to say to them.

Then it dimly registers that they’re clear and focused in your short-range vision, and you glance down to see your glasses shattered on the ground before you. Your heart breaks a little more.

The instant Toriel recovers from her shock at seeing you screaming on the ground, her barrage resumes. It seems less intense than before, but there’s still more than enough fire to make your life difficult. Chara seizes the first opportunity they see to snap some sort of sideways kick at you, forcing you to leap left and swerve around a different set of fireballs. They’re trying to trip you up, you realize, to make you run into another of Toriel’s attacks.

Even as they throw periodic punches and sweeping kicks to force you off-balance, falling into a half-remembered fighting stance, you see their reluctance grow. Long chestnut hair flies free from their hood to obscure their face, giving you only glimpses of the warring emotions in their vibrant ruby eyes.

The edge of a fireball grazes your arm, sending a flash of white pain up your left side. You can’t afford to focus on them. You push all conscious thought to the back of your mind, and concentrate only on staying away from Toriel and Chara’s combined assault… and your refusal to fight back.

You duck under whips of flame, leap aside from flying fists, and bounce off the wall to dodge irregular series of fireballs. You dare to hope that you might last long enough to wear them both down- that they won’t be able to handle attacking you for much longer.

And then your legs give out, and you trip.

Time slows to a crawl as your exhausted body hangs in the air, an oncoming fireball inches from your face. You stare, blank and numb, as it grows to consume your entire visual horizon in flame.

You fall.

All becomes light and pain.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------

You can only watch in horror as Frisk falls full on into another fireball. You know she can’t withstand another hit like that- she was already struggling! You thought she would give up! You lunge forward, belatedly, to try _something_ to save her, anything but watching that defeated stare as the flames close in…

But it’s too late.

The fire engulfs her. The scream that issues from the burning child is deafening, tearing at the core of your being. You reach Frisk just as the magical flames extinguish themselves, and her outstretched arms fall limply to the ground.

_No, no no no no no no NO NO **NO** …_

You pull Frisk into your lap, frantically flooding your healing magic across the horrific burns and blisters covering her skin, watching the sweater she loves so much flaking away into ash.

You hold her as a soft sigh emits from her charred lips, and her soul shatters.

Darkness floods your vision.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

When you exist again, all is dark and empty. The only surface is as black and featureless as the void around you, and the only sound is distant sobbing.

 _Crying… crying?_ Frisk! _She’s alive!?_

[[♫]](https://youtu.be/WCf_YuN9zUg)

You struggle to your feet and turn towards the sound, to be greeted with actual color in the distance. You can make out a small, grassy mound with a patch of golden flowers at its crest… with a tiny figure in blue and purple curled up in the center.

Nearly stunned in disbelief, you slowly force your feet to move. Walking, then jogging, then breaking into a headlong sprint, you rush over to the flowerbed. As you close the gap, you can hear Frisk’s heartbroken sobs more and more clearly, until every step you take is painful.

She stiffens and curls even tighter as you fall to your knees in the flowers beside her, shoulders still shaking with every beat of her shattered heart. You reach out to her… and then withdraw your hand. You don’t deserve to touch her after what you’ve just done. You feel the newly reinforced walls around your heart begin to crumble as you watch her helplessly.

“I’m sorry.” The words spill from your mouth, as they’ve wanted to ever since you left her to stand with Toriel. “I never meant for this to happen. I only wanted…” You trail off as she shifts away from you, sobs still unceasing. “I wanted you to stay. You’re too _good_ for them. For humans.”

She shuffles in response, relaxing just enough that you know she’s listening. “Your village… it may have been good to you now, but eventually they would have turned on you.” It’s difficult to force the words out, but she has to understand, or she’ll never trust you again. “Eventually,” you continue, volume rising, “they would see that you’re not like them. And do you know what they do to things they don’t understand?” You fling your arm out to the side, practically shouting your question at her. “THIS!”

As you speak, you yank the collar of your shirt down, baring the proof of your words. Frisk slowly pushes herself up on one hand and turns to face you. As her features come into view, and you glimpse the new desolation and wariness in her eyes, the tears covering her face, the insidious voice in your head whispers, _“You did this. You hurt her again. It’s all you’re good for. You’re just like your parents.”_

The echoes in your head multiply as her gaze tracks downwards, a crescendo of memory and self-doubt. It peaks as her reddened eyes widen in horror, taking in the brutal red-silver scar that slashes down from your collarbone and across your chest to vanish into your shirt. The jagged ridge of scar tissue stands out starkly against your pale skin, even with no visible source of light in this strange place.

You release your collar and slump down into the flowers, gasping for air, the voices starting to overwhelm your sense of self. _“ ~~Worthless!”~~ “ ~~Devil!”~~ ~~“Demon!”~~_

~~_“If you won’t be my daughter, then you won’t be ANYTHING!”_ ~~

”It hurt.” A real voice, right there next to you, pulls you out of your downward spiral for just an instant, long enough to look up and see fresh tears welling in Frisk’s sapphire eyes. “The fire… i-it hurt so much, and I couldn’t… _you left me!”_ she wails, and your newfound composure lasts only long enough to lean forward and wrap your arms around her.

You break down together, old wounds and new reopening. You sob, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” over and over until you go hoarse. She bawls in your embrace, the pain of your ill-considered betrayal and the fiery fate it caused flowing out with her unending tears.

…

In a quiet corner of your mind, you hope this means things can be fixed again.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

After a time, the two of you separate, dark patches across your shoulder and down the back of Frisk’s sweater, somehow restored from its burnt state. You look around, finding nothing but the hill and the darkness. “Where are we, anyway?” you ask, glancing back down at Frisk.

She appears to take notice of her surroundings for the first time, red and puffy eyes widening as she takes in the void around you. “I-I don’t know,” she murmurs. “Aren’t we… dead?”

“…Somehow, I don’t think so,” you reply, examining the flowers more intently, but finding nothing. “But we do need to find a way back.”

Almost as if sensing your words, an enormous black box appears before the two of you, rapidly filling with familiar text. “It’s a save menu, like before!” you exclaim in sudden excitement. “Except…”

This time, the panels were labeled “Continue” and “Reset” instead of “Save” and “Return”…. and you don’t recognize the save information. Frisk apparently does, judging by the sudden sparkle of hope in her eyes.

“It’s the save I made while you were reading!” she says, wonder spreading across her face. “Will this do what I think it does?” You’re a little lost, but since this seems to be the only way out of here…

You turn to her and say, “I suppose there’s only one way to find out. And Frisk?” She freezes, hand partway to the “Continue” panel.

“Yes?”

You taker her other hand in yours and squeeze it gently.

“If anyone can make peace with monsters… you can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To any of you who saw Chara’s ‘betrayal’ coming, well done. I tried to be clear with Chara’s subtext last chapter without making it too heavy-handed, but you can never know how your audience is going to interpret something. Not all the pieces of Chara’s past have been shown yet~
> 
> (I promise there’ll be less angst in the coming chapters please don’t kill me for making my children suffer it hurts me enough T_T)
> 
> There are actually quite a few tidbits of Starry-Eyed-verse lore hidden in the descriptions of the hallway carvings. Just a note. Don’t blame poor Frisky for the lack of detail- they were running after Toriel at the time. ;)
> 
> I’ve decided that the Fight, Act, etc. buttons and HP bar are an abstraction that only the “Player” can see, for the purposes of this story. I like to indulge in ‘realism’, in the sense that it feels more natural to write about actual wounds and things that would actually happen if you get shot or fireballed, rather than HP... but there are exceptions to this. For example, the SAVE menu, and the shielding effect we saw in the Toriel fight. Stay tuned for more on that in future chapters.
> 
> There’s actually a really interesting interpretation of ‘HP’ in one of my favorite RWBY fics, ["The Games We Play"](https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/rwby-the-gamer-the-games-we-play.306381/), wherein the ‘player’ still feels the pain of wounds, but does not actually receive the injury, just a drop in HP. 
> 
> There would be a conclusion to Toriel’s segment in this chapter, but I’ll be out of town for a bit and I didn’t want to delay the update any further.
> 
> The pace of the story is going to pick up a bit from here, once our intrepid duo make it past Toriel. I’ll be timeskipping or montage-ing a significant amount of the standard Undertale events in order to focus on the character interaction between Frisk and Chara, and anything that’s changed by the alterations to canon in this story.


	7. Boss Nova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It’s been months! I’m sorry. Life (and grad school) likes to get in the way of my writing. Once again, I promise this story isn’t being abandoned. I’m just slow. It also took an extra few weeks this time, because my beta [Afterados](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5698514/afterados) called me out on a massive plot hole I had to fix. Have an extra-long chapter to compensate!
> 
> Instead of starting with Frisk’s POV, this chapter begins with Chara. For story reasons. 
> 
> Blasphemy, I know.

The world fades back into existence. Slowly, and in strange patches of increasing detail, the living room is restored around you.

Frisk is no longer beside you, and for a moment you panic all over again. “Frisk!” you shout, struck with a sudden fear that you came back alone. You don’t think you could bear that. Not anymore.

“I’m here!” comes the reply, as a whole, hale, and seemingly healthy Frisk dashes back into the living room.

Your whole body sags with relief, causing the book you were holding to drop through your crossed legs. You yelp at the strange sensation- there’s something _wrong_ about it, almost like the human body wasn’t meant to exist in the same space as another solid object.

Frisk pauses in her wide-eyed examination of the living room to give you a questioning look. You instinctively do your best impression of a superior and disinterested statue… which, unfortunately, just seems to confuse her.

(At least, as far as you can tell from just glancing at her out of the corner of your eye. You can’t exactly turn your head to look at her. That would ruin the image.)

After a moment, she seems to shrug it off, and starts excitedly relaying the results of her frantic visual research. “I think it worked!” she says. “I think we’re back when I made the save!”

It takes your brain a moment to catch up (hardly surprising, given that you don’t know where you left it). You can’t exactly argue with her, since she appears to be in one, unburnt, piece… you wince as the memory of her previous fate hits you. You don’t think that image, that memory of helplessness and guilt, is going to leave you any time soon.

But doesn’t that mean…

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=hoqMpJC0tZY#Suspense_Music_-_Seeking_The_Truth)

“Do we have a visitor? I thought I heard a voice…” Before the thought is even finished forming, Toriel enters the room, box in hand. You must have missed her footsteps while you were off in your head considering time travel.

Almost on reflex, you glance at Frisk… and see her pale and shaking, staring at Toriel with pure terror in her eyes.

Shit.

You really should have seen this coming. Nobody would react well to the presence of someone who burned them alive only moments ago, especially not someone so innocent. (Moments ahead? It doesn’t matter.)

“My child, what’s wrong?” Toriel inquires, having noticed the state Frisk is in. She sets the glasses box on the table and moves toward Frisk, reaching out a hand, only to stop when Frisk withdraws with a noise like a mouse being hit with a sledgehammer. “…are you afraid of me?”

Toriel looks confused and heartbroken at the very idea. That’s as close to confirmation of the time jump as you’re going to get. If the fight had happened… there’s no way she could have kept up a poker face that good if she remembered. You know her too well for that.

Or… _knew,_ at least.

It must be very strange for Toriel to see Frisk suddenly shift demeanors when she left the room. You’re still trying to wrap your incorporeal head around it, yourself. You don’t know what to do here. Planning was never your strong suit. Can the two of you get out and past Toriel without fighting her, this time? Fortunately, it looks like she’s forgotten about the “visitor”…

You finally break out of your stupor and dash over to Frisk, wrapping your arms around her from behind. “It’s ok,” you whisper in her ear. “I’m still here. It won’t happen again.”

At first, Frisk stiffens even more at the contact, before realizing it’s you. You see a small portion of her panic fade away at your presence, but she’s still far from calm. You’re fresh out of ideas, as usual, so you seize on the first option that comes to mind. “Tell her it’s just a bad memory. It’s the truth- and she’ll understand, a bit.”

You deliberately leave out the fact that Toriel’s dealt with that so many times already that she’s _had_ to understand.

You feel another sliver of tension fade from Frisk’s narrow frame as she exhales slowly, seeming to gather herself enough to speak. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “Just… just a bad memory.”

It’s nice that Frisk trusts you on this one, but you’re going to have to explain yourself at some point. You’d rather take a nap on a burning cactus than have _that_ conversation.

Toriel’s hands drop to her sides, expression less bewildered but even more sorrowful. “It’s all right,” she sighs. “If you’d like me to keep my distance, I’ll just leave the glasses on the table here. Do… do you still wish to try them?” She looks marginally more hopeful, with the promise of the glasses to lure Frisk out of their own head.

Frisk’s response is a small nod and a weak, watery smile that hits both you and Toriel in the gut with a rocket punch. You need to _protect_ her this time. _Really_ protect her, not get her killed trying to make her stay where it’s safe.

Hopefully Toriel will realize that faster this time, too.

As promised, Toriel steps back into the doorway as you release Frisk and she slowly walks over to the table. She can barely reach the box, enormous as the table is. You’d help, but Toriel’s already suspicious enough without objects moving on their own.

Once again, Frisk slips on the glasses and looks around. The joy from the first time is subdued, nearly absent, but a real smile makes its way to her lips at the restoration of the gift.

You see Toriel start to open her mouth again to speak, but before either of you can say anything…

“I can’t stay here.”

Dammit, Frisk.

You groan internally as shock comes over Toriel’s face. You should have known she wouldn’t be up for any trickery or subtlety when it came to escaping this place. She’s still too naïve and trusting to willingly deceive a parental figure, fiery death or no.

Looks like it’s straight through and sheer stubbornness once more.

“What are you saying, my child? This is your home now! You…”

“This isn’t my home,” Frisk interrupts. You can see that it hurts her to say that, to be so blunt with the (normally) kind woman who took her in and fed her, but not so much as it hurts Toriel. Her expression fades to blank neutrality as Frisk continues, “I have to get back to my village. My parents.”

“…I’m sorry,” Frisk says again, head drooping down until her gaze is pointed at the floor.

Toriel gazes at her for another moment before her eyes harden, and she turns to leave, saying “Very well. I must attend to something. Please wait here for a moment.”

You’ve heard of the phrase “déjà vu” before, but this is the first time it’s really hit you. This conversation already happened. Frisk seems affected by it, too, muted though her response is by her emotional state.

As Toriel practically flees the room, you walk out in front of Frisk and hold out your hand to her, smiling with as much sincerity as you can muster. “It will be different this time. I’m here with you now,” you tell her. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Frisk looks you over, faded hoodie and all, before taking your hand and squeezing it, a tiny smile on her face. _God,_ she’s cute with those glasses.

“Let’s go,” you say, and the two of you dash after Toriel, hand in hand.

The carvings all flash by you a second time, and you have even less attention to spare for them this time, occupied as you are with matching Frisk’s pace. And who cares? The only history lessons worth learning are the ones you’ve already learned the hard way.

The two of you round the corner and stop before the purple-robed back of your would-be mother. You close your eyes and exhale as Toriel turns, eyes going blank as her hands alight with flame.

This time, you’ll make her see. You both will.

...

Your eyes open.

_Round Two._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=4DfArO6TMEg#Undertale%3A_Heartache_\(Toriel_Battle\)_-_Metal_Cover_%7C%7C_RichaadEB)

Dodge.

Duck.

Swerve.

Dive.

Fire splashes across the faded purple brickwork, leaving behind a tapestry of subtle scorch marks.

Toriel’s attacks are no less tiring to dodge the second time around, but now that you know what to expect, you can take advantage of the patterns in her attacks just a bit more.

Even so, you’re starting to slow down. It’s only been a few minutes, but your stamina isn’t any greater than it was last time. You see Chara floating around at your side, breezing past fireballs with inches to spare. You give only a brief thought to what would even happen if they were hit- mostly, you’re occupied with your own evasion and the sheer giddiness of having them fight _with_ you.

 _It must be nice to have a body that can’t get tired_ , you think, despite that they don’t really have a body at all. That must be weird on a lot of levels.

“Look out!” Chara unexpectedly lunges towards you, shouting. As they crash into you, a fireball whizzes through the space you were just occupying. Drat, you lost your focus on the fight. “Pay attention, doofus,” they admonish as you both pick yourselves up and roll out of the way of another fiery lash.

You manage a small smile at that, despite your circumstances, but you don’t have any response with which to keep the banter going. The panic has faded somewhat, now that you’re absorbed in the motions of the fight again, but there’s still a painful tightness in your chest whenever you look up at Toriel. She’s killed you once, accident or not, and there’s no reason it couldn’t happen again… except for Chara.

An idea bubbles up as you continue weaving in and out of Toriel’s crisscrossing chains of fire. When there’s a moment’s pause as Toriel gathers flame in her hands once more, you hold your hand out to Chara, murmuring, “Do you know how to dance?”

They blink at you, uncomprehending, but take your hand in theirs. You tug on your linked hands, pulling them closer, and their expression clears as they glance at the ground where the two of you had just tumbled. “Not really…” they admit, “but I can improvise.”

You both turn to face the newest oncoming wave of fire, hand in hand, and wait.

When the first of the attacks reaches you, you lean to the side, raising your linked arms above the fireball, and Chara pulls you back to them to avoid the next threat.

Together, you can dodge much more easily, stopping your momentum or changing your path without warning to slip past the thickening lines of fire. It’s not perfect- it’s pretty clumsy, in fact. You’re grazed here and there, and your arm is going to be seriously sore when this is over, but you’re not nearly as tired as you were by this point last time.

As you glance up at Toriel, you see her eyes narrowed and considering. Crap, she’s noticed something’s up. You guess it was too much to hope for that she wouldn’t be suspicious of your sudden ability to change course without any visible means of doing so.

She says nothing (not that she’s spoken much at all while fighting in either instance), but you see tension build throughout her body- and then, suddenly, she’s in a different corner of the room, spraying fire from her new position without remorse.

You’ve never seen anyone move that quickly. You nearly stumble straight into a fireball’s path, startled by the sudden shift, until Chara once again yanks you out of harm’s way. They look a little worse for the wear, too, even though you hadn’t noticed them get hit with anything…

“Stay focused, Frisk,” they demand, pulling you into the temporary “safe zone” between the chains of fire that seem even faster now. “She was a _General_ once. Don’t underestimate her.”

You nod, focusing back on the incoming attacks as best you can with your mind still reeling. Toriel was a General of the monsters? Why has she suddenly raised the stakes on this fight? Was it because she thought you could handle it, with your newfound “ability” to dodge?

Whatever the reason, the increased pace and sudden direction changes of the barrage push you and Chara to the limit. You aren’t going to last much longer, at this rate, until one of you gets hit full in the face.

“What are you proving this way?” Toriel asks, suddenly halting the rain of fire. “Why won’t you fight back?”

You take the opportunity to take a few deep breaths. Doing your absolute best not to quiver as you look her in the eye, you insist, “I don’t want to hurt you.” You glance at Chara, continuing, “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

She bows her head, looking guilty, but fire springs up in her palms once more. “Stop looking at me like that,” she says, quietly. “I know you want to go home… but this is what’s best. For everyone.” With that, she unleashes a blistering barrage, a storm of fire to either side, and one enormous fireball streaking straight towards you.

You freeze, your second death looming, no way out in any direction, and you feel your heart break yet again. The phantom sounds of your glasses and your soul shattering fill your ears.

And then Chara steps in front of you.

They’re… _glowing._

Chara’s whole body emits a vibrant red light as they stand protectively in front of you, facing down the oncoming storm. “Chara, what are you _doing_?” you shout, reaching out to stop them from throwing themselves into the fire.

Their only reply is to cross their arms across their chest, glow dimming momentarily as they glance back at you, then resurging as they step forward, almost _into_ the fireball.

With a single, fluid motion, they slam their right foot down and drive their crossed arms out and away to each side, roaring, “NOT AGAIN!”

And as their glowing fists make contact with the fire, it ceases to exist.

The giant fireball shreds and vanishes, incapable of withstanding the strange power radiating off of Chara in waves.

As the glow flares, and then begins to fade, Chara holds their pose, breathing heavily. The remnants of the fireball disperse, and Toriel is revealed, shocked eyes widening even further as they focus on… Chara?

“…Chara?” They startle, focusing on Toriel with intent ruby eyes, the remaining fires winking out in an instant.

Wait, did _Toriel_ just say that? Can she _see_ them?

It certainly looks like she can, judging by her expression.

[[♫]](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=l3sJ79C1Zyo#Undertale_OST%3A_081_-_An_Ending)

“M… Mom?” comes Chara’s hesitant voice. They seem as surprised as the rest of you that they’re visible to anyone but you.

As the last of the red glow begins to fade away, Toriel’s expression switches to panic. “Wait, Chara! Don’t go! Don’t leave again!” she cries, reaching out for them as she dashes forward. Toriel’s arms close around them, and for a moment, they seem to find purchase… and then, as the glow vanishes from Chara’s form, her arms slip through the space they stand in, and you’ve never seen a more confused and heartbroken expression in your life.

“…Why?” she croaks, staring at the space before her as if it will bring her child back again, now oblivious once more to Chara’s ongoing failure to touch her. Their frantic cries of “Mom? Mom!” go just as unnoticed as their hands- desperately clutching at her, and finding no purchase.

Once your body catches up with your brain, you take a few steps forward and gently pull your ghostly friend away from their mother. “Let me,” you whisper to them, and the panic in Chara’s eyes fades as they realize what you mean.

“Ms. Toriel,” you begin, catching her attention again, “Chara _is_ here. They’ve been here with me ever since I fell…”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes a while to explain everything to Toriel (well, everything except the part where she killed you and you rewound time). She persists in interrupting whenever you get to a part where you were injured, asking how badly you were hurt and if it’s still paining you. You suppose she’s trying to make up for hurting you herself…

You don’t think you can let go of your death at her hands that quickly.

“…and I’m still not sure what that glowy stuff was, but it looked like you could only see them while it was still there- and it started fading right after the huge fireball,” you conclude, propping your elbows on your knees as you settle back onto the wooden floor.

Toriel still looks stunned. “That’s… quite a tale, my child,” she replies, gazing absently at the space to your left where Chara sits in midair.

They look less stricken, now that Toriel is aware of their presence, and seemed content to observe while you filled her in on your prior adventures. As silence fills the living room, they stir, and look like they’re about to speak, when Toriel seems to deflate and drops her face into her hands. “I am not a good mother, am I?” she sighs.

Chara immediately protests, “That’s not true! Of course you are!” They seem offended by the very idea. Of course, you have to ‘translate’ for them, so it takes a moment for Toriel to receive the message.

She lifts her head again and manages a small smile. “That’s kind of you to say, my child, but it is true. I subjected the two of you to harm out of my own fear. How can I say I am protecting either of you, if all I do is hurt you?” She looks incredibly sad as she shifts her gaze to you.  “If I try to give you a home by taking you from the one you have? You’ll be safer far away from me.”

Neither of you have an answer to that. Even if you did, you’re not sure you could bring yourself to say it. Toriel seems genuinely regretful, and you can’t hold it against her… but a small part of you still recoils in fear whenever she looks your way.

She continues, “If you must leave, then you must leave. I know, now, that you can take care of yourselves.” She pauses for a moment, a thought occurring to her. ”Perhaps you will have more luck convincing him than I ever did. I suppose anything is possible, these days,” she says, gesturing in Chara’s general direction with one oversized hand.

Chara manages a grim little smile, at that. “Mom…” they say, “It’s alright. I’ll protect her. I won’t let anything happen to her- It’s the least I can do for being ‘alive’ again.” The warmth in their expression as they glance at you makes you stumble through relaying their words, heat rising in your face.

They grow somber again, gazing at Toriel as though she was something precious they no longer deserved. It looks like it’s a family trait.

Well, _that_ was the most cynical thought you’ve ever had. Chara must be rubbing off on you.

You’re so busy being introspective that you almost miss Chara speaking up again. “I’m sorry, Mom,” they say, in a tiny voice so unlike their usual manner. “For everything.”

Once you apologize on Chara’s behalf, Toriel shakes her head rapidly. “You have nothing to apologize for, Chara.” From their expression, they seem to disagree, but Toriel is still speaking. “Now then,” she says, seeming to force brightness back into her tone. “I’m afraid you must leave soon, before I become… unreasonable… again.”

She stands from her overstuffed chair and makes to walk into the kitchen. “I do insist, though, that you take more pie with you, my children.”

Well, you certainly won’t say no to that. After a moment, Toriel comes back into the room with several enormous slices of her trademark pie wrapped up in waxed paper, placing them on the table for you to take. She turns back to you, glancing over to where Chara was earlier, and opens her mouth again, but words fail to come, and she simply stands there, closing her eyes against the tears that threaten to fall.

Chara attempts to hug her one more time (and fails, of course), and then turns to you with a pleading look in their eyes, glancing back at the despondent Toriel.

_Oh._

Your stomach tries to knot up again as you realize what Chara’s asking of you, but you shove the feeling down as hard as you can. Toriel always meant well, even if she isn’t the best at expressing it. For your friend… for Chara… you step forward and wrap your arms around as much of Toriel as you can reach.

She’s surprised, but gently crouches down and hugs you back, enveloping you in warm fur and purple fabric. This isn’t so bad. You’ve always been a hugger, anyway.

You pass on her hug to Chara immediately afterwards, of course, so it’s not much of a sacrifice after all.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so you stand before the great doors, a cold draft blowing from beneath, with pie in your makeshift backpack and Chara by your side.

You reach out and place your palm on the door, feeling the chill settle into your fingers, and look over at Chara mirroring you.

“Time to go,” they say, with that trademark tiny smile of theirs, and you nod once before pushing your whole weight against the door.

 _Here we go_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve had the idea about the dance-dodging floating around my head for weeks. Thoughts on that? Any thoughts on the chapter in general? I’m always in need of critique and/or ego-boosting. :3
> 
> Next time... Snowdin!
> 
> UPDATE: Starry-Eyed will take a bit longer to update. I've been sidetracked by other personal projects, at the moment. Currently thinking about the direction for the next chapter!


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